


Good Taste

by showmeurteef



Category: EXO (Band), Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Blood, Blood Drinking, M/M, Mild Pain Kink, baek knows exactly what he wants n how to get what he wants, baekhyun changkyun vampires, baekhyun predator, blowjob, changkyun prey but also predator, chanyeol is baeks reluctantly enabling bff, death mentions (they are vampires), insert lookin like a snacc joke, insert thirsty joke, just two sexy little immortals havin a sexy little time, mild fear kink, murder mentions (they are vampires), psychic vampire stuff, slight predator/prey kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:21:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25340806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/showmeurteef/pseuds/showmeurteef
Summary: “You know I like fledgling blood best, and I just know that there’s something in a modern immortal I’ve never tasted before. Plus, have you seen his throat?”a restless vampire with a refined pallet decides that a fun little fledgling is just what he needs to quench his thirst (aka i rlly like baek, i rlly like kyun, n i rlly like vampires so i thought... why not simply.... put them together??)extended warnings/explanations within
Relationships: Im Changkyun | I.M/Byun Baekhyun
Comments: 19
Kudos: 34





	Good Taste

**Author's Note:**

> warnings/explanations:  
> \- there's blood drinking referenced n actually done throughout  
> \- death is mentioned in terms of their mortal bodies dying n them killing ppl to feed  
> \- the predator/prey kink is mostly instinctual n undiscussed as baekhyun has become a full vampire predator, while bits of changkyun's humanness (i.e. prey status) still remain in his fledgling state. obvs irl pls negotiate ur kinks more thoroughly ((unless ur in this exact vampire/vampire scenario, in which case, good for u))  
> \- note that baek is much more powerful as a full vampire than changkyun is as a fledgling, n they both understand this
> 
> pls let me know if u need anything else tagged or explained!

“Changkyun? You wanna fuck _Changkyun?_ ”

Baekhyun stirs his bloodshake with a straw and lifts his eyes to the gilded ceiling as if he’s seriously contemplating the question, as if the question even _needs_ serious contemplation. He locks eyes with Chanyeol.

“Yes. I wanna fuck Changkyun.” He shatters the veneer of contemplation with a quick smile, and takes a sip of his shake. A little too metallic for his taste.

“Changkyun...” Chanyeol shakes his head. Annoyance twitches in Baekhyun’s stomach for a moment at the thought that he’ll have to explain his desires in painstaking detail for god knows how long, when he _really_ just wanted to arrange a casual fuck over a casual bloodshake, but it’s fine. Because Chanyeol sighs. Resigned. Defeated. “How do you even _know_ him?”

“Well, I know you, you know Jooheon, and Jooheon knows Changkyun. It isn’t that complicated, really.” Baekhyun shrugs, eyes straying out into the sparkling and swaying dining room, searching for their waiter. “I think I met him at one of your parties, or something, when you were introducing me to the fledglings.”

“Dude,” Chanyeol gasps, clearly trying to regain Baekhyun’s attention, but Baekhyun would very much like to order a replacement dessert. This casual fuck is already taking a lot more effort to arrange than he thought it would, and he dreads the possibility of ending the night without a decent goddamn frozen beverage to make up for his troubles. “That was months ago and— _and_ he’s a fledgling.”

“So?” Baekhyun sighs. He can’t pick out the waiter in the sea of silks and jewels and glass, and the idea of using his heightened vampiric eyesight to find them sounds incredibly tiring right about now. He returns his gaze to Chanyeol’s wide eyes and parted mouth. “You know I like fledgling blood best, and I just _know_ that there’s something in a modern immortal I’ve never tasted before. Plus, have you _seen_ his throat?”

“Wait a minute— I thought you wanted to fuck him? You want to drink his blood?”

“Who says I can’t have both?” Baekhyun perches his dainty chin between his palms and flutters his eyes. “Don’t you think I’m pretty enough to seduce Changkyun on both fronts?”

The tips of Chanyeol’s ears turn red as his eyes dart to his own glass, filled with some spectacularly expensive iron cocktail. Baekhyun’s brain pops and hums like the electricity moving through the chandeliers overhead.

“Careful, Chanyeol,” he drawls, flicking Chanyeol’s round nose in the hopes that it'll deepen the delicious blush. “I might start to thirst after _you_ , too, you adorable thing.”

Chanyeol turns _red._ Baekhyun feels so giddy that he forgets all about how disappointing his shake is, and gulps down the icy red mixture.

“Don’t say ‘thirst’ like that. You’re, like, hundreds of years old.” Chanyeol laughs as Baekhyun makes an ugly face at both Chanyeol’s comment and the drink. “But, I’ll ask Jooheon about it, and introduce you to Changkyun if he’s so inclined.”

“Don’t say ‘so inclined’ like that. You’re, like, only a hundred years old.”

“Bite me.” Chanyeol rolls his eyes.

Baekhyun’s smile glitters.

* * *

“H—” Changkyun’s eyes widen, almost imperceptibly —just for an _instant_ — as his greeting gets caught in his throat. His fist hovers in the air between Baekhyun’s suddenly open front door and himself. A delicate little appendage, veins pulsing within his pretty wrist, filled with the blood of a recent kill. How polite of him, how practical. Baekhyun grins. Changkyun clears his throat and continues, “Hey, Baekhyun.”

“Hey, Changkyun,” he replies, just as delighted by the mix of languages and accents woven into the other’s speech as he was the first time they met. Someone so young having collected such an array of sounds certainly isn’t as unusual today as it was in the Korea of Baekhyun’s past, but the opportunity to unravel every bit of this fledgling, including the linguistic threads, makes his fingertips itch. He’s surprised by how quickly the fledgling slipped into a casual tone with his senior, too, but appreciative of the gesture nonetheless. It would be _such_ a bore to coax him into comfort before the exchange can even begin. “Come on in.”

He gestures for Changkyun to step into his home —a modern apartment he’s had for only a decade or so, outfitted with the age’s most fascinating little amenities and done up in muted tones not so different from those Baekhyun preferred in the ‘20s— and is delighted by how the younger seems to gulp down his own hesitance. His first step is slow and jerky, but the next is wide and certain. His feet plant so solidly in Baekhyun’s entryway. His fingers so nimbly untie his shoelaces. Not one bit of coaxing needed.

Chanyeol had relayed to Baekhyun that Changkyun _was_ interested in the blood sucking, which Changkyun had later confirmed this over text, but there was a lingering sense of uncertainty about the fucking. Now that Baekhyun watches Changkyun move into his home, watches Changkyun internally psyche himself up, watches _Changkyun_ , he isn’t certain that the blood drinking is all Changkyun wants to get out of this little meeting, after all. Interesting.

“Did you find the place okay?” Baekhyun asks, more interested in the way that Changkyun’s shoulders straighten out and his gaze focuses as he formulates his reply than he is in the reply itself. Baekhyun smiles at him, then beckons him further into the apartment with a curled finger. “I wanna ask you a bit about what it’s like to be newly immortal in this era, if that’s alright.”

“Sure. Whatever you wanna know,” Changkyun replies, and Baekhyun can hear him shrug behind him. So cool. So casual. It almost seems effortless.

“You got turned six months ago?” Baekhyun collapses into his bean bag and drinks in Changkyun’s form as he takes deliberate, slick, _deliberately slick_ steps into the seating area. The waistband of his slightly gray, slightly baggy jeans stretches just above his little hips. A mixture of delicate chains and colorful beads clatter around his neck, with some dipping below his shirt collar. His bangs brush his eyelashes. _Interesting_.

He doesn’t ask permission before sitting opposite Baekhyun on his sofa, but he does neatly place his hands on his lap. Baekhyun can sense the blood pumping in Changkyun’s veins, can hear the discordant rings of iron and death echo in his ears; fledgling blood— _excited_ fledgling blood. Yet, his expression is so calm.

“Yup. Don’t know who did it, but here I am.”

“Yup,” Baekhyun echoes, lips tugging into a wry smile. Such a simple response; honest and accepting, rather than despairing or confused over such a serious matter. He catches Changkyun’s eyes darting towards his fangs this time, but they only stay there for a half a second at most. Baekhyun runs a hand through his hair, but doesn’t successfully earn another flicker of attention at the small motion. “How often do you see Chanyeol?”

“Oh...” Changkyun shrugs once more and lifts his eyes to the ceiling, apparently caught off guard enough to let his cool, narrowed eyes take on a glittery curiosity. “Not very often? We hang every couple of weeks— mostly because we both know Jooheon. I don’t know him that well, like, one-on-one.”

“Were you surprised when Chanyeol asked you about me and my... intentions?” Baekhyun flutters a hand through the air, and his airy laugh is met with a tiny, almost shy smile.

“A little, but I remembered you from that party, so...”

Changkyun _remembered_ Baekhyun. Remembered him well enough to make some sort of connection between the first impression Baekhyun made on him and Baekhyun’s thirsts. Baekhyun has no idea his brief handshake could hold so much power— well, he _did_ , but it’s nice to be reminded that he’s irresistible. A familiar warmth worms it’s way into Baekhyun's stomach.

“What do you like to do for fun, Changkyun?”

Changkyun, bizarrely, isn’t caught off guard this time, although this question was just as out of the blue as any of the others Baekhyun’s been sliding his way. He crosses his legs and leans forward, something sparking in his eyes.

“I make music.”

“A _musician?_ ” Baekhyun’s own heart seems to quicken, though he can’t remember the last time he filled his veins. He finds himself leaning forward, too. “What kind of music do you make? What kind of music do you like?”

“Ah...” Changkyun laughs lightly and flaps a hand, suddenly shy and humble and _human_ , but no less excited. “I won’t show you any of _my_ stuff, but I can put on stuff I like, if that’s okay?”

“It’s only okay if you promise me that by next time we meet, you’ll have some of _your_ stuff ready to show me,” Baekhyun says. Pouting. Crossing his arms.

“Okay, alright.” Not a hint of resistance or confusion at the ‘next time.’ Just _confidence_.

Changkyun pads over to Baekhyun’s speaker, making quick work of all the blinking lights and the invisible connections, before turning to Baekhyun with an expression that’s somehow eager and nervous all at once. Baekhyun’s mouth opens to say something else, to tease out another answer, but it quickly clamps shut. Something filters through the speaker. It’s heavy and languid. Music not _quite_ from any instrument Baekhyun’s ever heard of drags through a skipping, stuttering voice. The sounds are sad, but _alive_. A lot like rain.

“It’s very... modern,” Baekhyun murmurs, only realizing that his eyes have slipped shut when he has to snap them open to see Changkyun’s laughter. His tilted head and open jaw hold preciously young fangs, too blunt to do any real damage and too small to appear inhuman. Baekhyun internally congratulates himself on his own impeccable taste.

“You sound so old.” Changkyun’s face shines with amusement and confidence. Baekhyun waggles a finger at him, rising to his feet with exaggerated effort.

“I _am_ so old. Watch your tone, punk.”

 _“Punk,”_ Changkyun echoes him with a murmur, laughter lingering in his eyes as Baekhyun grabs the phone from his pretty, delicate, pulsing hands.

“Let me show you what _I_ like to listen to, then.” 

With very real effort, he manages to make the sounds of centuries past filter through the speaker. It’s certainly not from his own, mortal youth, but he was so much younger then, so entranced by a different era of life and all the countries still unfamiliar to himself. The lilting, dulcet tones bring fond memories of mirrored walls and marble staircases, of blood spilled over frilled collars.

“Are you about to say, ‘now, this is _real_ music, sonny,’ or some shit?” Changkyun laughs, again, and Baekhyun hears the sweet, open sound so clearly among the ballrooms of his own immortal youth. “It’s just classical. Cool, but classical. I can’t really get into it.”

“ _Just—_ ” Baekhyun scoffs. He takes one of Changkyun’s hands in his own, stretching them both out, and then arranges Changkyun’s other hand over his shoulder. “Let me show you how to get into ‘ _real_ music.’”

He guides Changkyun into a simple waltz. Socked feet sliding over hardwood and sweatpants swishing over jeans. One just _barely_ alive hand intertwined with a long-dead one. He feels Changkyun smiling at him —wide and confident this time— so he smiles back up at him, cheeks pushing up into his eyes. 

“You’re leading, huh?”

“Didn’t expect a 21st century boy to know how to waltz well enough to lead,” Baekhyun quips, despite taking far more pride in how he’s leading the sudden, jaunty waltz than he is in how he’s executing said waltz. He’s barely doing anything —fingertips just graze Changkyun’s hand and hold on his waist lighter than air— but Changkyun’s following his subliminal signals so well. A curved palm at his side, and he turns. The tip of a fingernail whispers over the back of his hand, and he steps forward. So eager to follow Baekhyun. So easy to guide.

It is a clumsy dance —they’re more slipping and skipping around Baekhyun’s dark living room than they are following the rhythm of the piece— but Baekhyun finds himself toeing back into those gilded, frilly balls. His veins clench around glittery memories. He dips Changkyun once, just to hear him squawk. So trusting, so honest. So goddamn _interesting_.

“First of all, I was, technically, born in the 20th century. Second of all, did you just invite me over to dance, or...?”

Just in time, the piece abruptly ends, its original vibrant finale tragically clipped by some toothpaste ad. Fitting. Baekhyun halts his motions, but doesn’t release Changkyun’s hand or hip. And Changkyun doesn’t try to separate.

“ _First of all,_ I care way more about your immortal birth than your mortal one.” Baekhyun raises a brow and parts his lips. Changkyun’s eyes flicker down to his bottom row of fangs yet again. “And, _second of all,_ I do still want to drink from you, if you’ll let me taste you.”

Changkyun doesn’t reply for a beat, and Baekhyun doesn’t miss the way his chest flutters at Baekhyun’s choice of words. He must not have grown out of the breathing habit quite yet. Cute.

“I...” He trails off with the same hesitance he showed in his first steps into Baekhyun’s space. Uncertainty quickly melts into certainty; he continues with more force behind his words, “I thought you wanted to fuck me, too?”

“I thought that you didn’t want that?”

“I just didn’t want to tell _Chanyeol_ that I wanted that.” He shakes his head. Ever so delicately, Baekhyun’s fingers slide from his waist to the small of his back. He doesn’t jump, doesn’t widen his eyes with surprise; he shuffles forward.

“You’re so weird,” Baekhyun murmurs. Changkyun doesn’t ask for clarification. “I think I could watch you forever, and never _ever_ get bored.”

The tips of Changkyun’s ears turn red, and Baekhyun feels like a million dollars have just landed in his lap. He’s rich. He’s rich, and he’s going to swim in his money like an immortal, sexy Scrooge McDuck.

“I’m serious,” he says, painting his expression into something incredibly grave. Wrinkled brow and jaw set. “I’ve never met anyone like you.”

“In all your years?” Changkyun laughs, and it’s clearly meant to be a joke at Baekhyun’s expense, but he doesn’t mind. It’s _fun_ to watch Changkyun have fun— more fun than it probably should be. Are all 21st century fledglings like him? Baekhyun’s arteries clench hungrily. 

Changkyun masterfully paints his own expression into something demure and continues, “I bet you say that to _all_ your fledgling fucks...”

“Oh? So you _do_ wanna fuck?” Baekhyun separates from him, and his head fizzes at the way Changkyun pouts at the loss of contact.

“Um, _yes?_ Why would I let you swing me around your living room to old people music if I didn’t want you to fuck me?”

“Dunno. Maybe you’re just secretly super into Strauss. Plus, the dancing had nothing to do with the fucking— I just wanted to get rid of any lingering awkwardness.” Baekhyun crosses his arms, turns up his chin, and glares. “But, I was _not_ ’swinging you around.’ That was a very _graceful_ rendition of the—”

“Relax.” Changkyun pats the top of Baekhyun’s head —a _fledgling_ , patting _Baekhyun’s_ head— and Baekhyun struggles to bite back his laughter. “I think it’s a little sexy that you don’t know your own strength.”

“I _see_...” Baekhyun hums, gaze sliding down Changkyun’s form until he _sees_ him shiver. His skin isn’t that pale yet and his clothing is all dark, but he’s somehow so _bright_ against the backdrop of the dark room. Baekhyun suddenly realizes that his eyes have hardly strayed from the other all evening, that he hasn’t felt the sting of restlessness since Changkyun arrived. He has no idea why or how this could be happening, but he _loves_ the way confusion and anticipation sinks into his old bones.

“Just to clarify... You _do_ also want my blood? That wasn’t just a front?” Changkyun fiddles with the collar of his shirt. Baekhyun doesn’t quite know if he means to draw his attention up to his bobbing throat —sprinkled with a few freckles, still glossy with a thin coat of lotion— but it _works_.

“Yes. Fuck yes. If...?”

 _“Please.”_ Changkyun nods, nothing but eager. His posture softens. His eyelashes whisper against his cheeks.

“Sit back down, then,” Baekhyun hums. 

Changkyun complies so quickly, so easily— something in the air must push his cleverness and confidence back down his long, slick throat. Baekhyun can’t help but _stare_ at the way he stretches it to the side. Lengthens it. Swallows thickly. 

“You like this?” Baekhyun asks, even though the answer’s pretty obvious.

“Yeah. it’s been so long, and pretty soon I won’t be able to be fed off of at all, so...”

Baekhyun moves too quickly for the fledgling’s eyes to detect just yet, and his head fills with pop rocks at the way Changkyun jumps back into the sofa at his sudden appearance before him. At the mere mention of bloodsucking, Changkyun turns into a nervous, eager little dog. Baekhyun bites his lip. He is about to have _so much_ fun, he feels a bit cheated that nobody told him fledglings were so entertaining these days.

“Well, we _might_ be able to draw a little blood out of you, even when you’re fully transformed.” Baekhyun places a knee on either side of Changkyun’s very neatly arranged thighs, checking Changkyun’s comfort with a few meaningful gestures before sitting himself fully in his lap.

“ _We?_ As in, you and I? Doing this? Again?”

Baekhyun’s mouth quirks up again, lifting from his longest fangs. Changkyun looks and sounds so deliciously _surprised_. He can hear that warm blood pumping through his pretty veins again. That practiced coolness has a few chinks in it, after all.

“That all depends on how good you taste.” Baekhyun puts a hand on the back of Changkyun’s little head; dainty fingers curving around warm scalp and bone.

“Thought you were gonna say it depended how good I am,” Changkyun murmurs. From this close, Baekhyun can almost see the words forming on Changkyun’s lips before he lets them slip out of that pink, wet mouth. The _tiniest_ hint of a grin bunches up the smooth skin of his cheek. Baekhyun can’t decide whether he’d like to see the self-satisfied grin form fully, or if he’d like that pink, wet mouth to open more widely. He figures, between the two of them, they’ve got enough time for both options.

“That, too.” He stretches upwards, hovering above Changkyun’s so carefully, so _intentionally_ stilled thighs to brush his lips against the curve of his throat. He inhales deeply. The lotion is woodsy-scented. Expensive. Hours and hours old. “You wanna be good? Is that what you like?”

“Sure.” Changkyun’s reply is barely more than a crackly breath. Baekhyun retreats from his pulsing artery to raise his eyebrows.

“What?”

“It’s just...” Changkyun’s tongue wets his bottom lip; an action that takes no more than a second to complete, but holds Baekhyun’s attention for what feels like a full minute. “ _You_. At that party, you seemed so confident and sexy and ancient— and you are, but... it makes it difficult to get a read on you. Are _you_ seriously, like, asking if I wanna be good for you? ‘Cause I fucking _do_ wanna be that, but I can’t tell if it’s what _you_ want?”

“You can’t tell what I want?” Baekhyun blinks. He’s pretty sure nobody’s _ever_ had trouble understanding exactly what he wanted throughout his very long life. _Ever_.

“Yeah, dude. You’re being kinda mysterious, which is sexy, too, but...”

If Baekhyun’s lungs weren’t useless, they’d have all of the wind knocked out of them. He tries to remember the sensation, tries to recall filthy air being pushed from his chest by the sheer force of surprise, but his mind keeps tiptoeing back to Changkyun. Open expression, hands politely settled at his sides. And Baekhyun must’ve been so distracted by collecting his strangely supernatural _and_ natural motions that he forgot to give him much in return. Baekhyun tilts his head.

“I can’t remember the last time I felt like this,” he says, incredibly amused with himself. Hunting modern humans isn’t like this— it’s easy, it’s efficient, and it always leaves the same taste in his mouth. Baekhyun barely has to put an effort into the hunt, barely _wants_ to. A colorful array of urges tug at his stomach. “I can _assure_ you that I want this.”

“What do you want?” Changkyun whispers; such a light, sweet question that it barely makes it past his pretty lips before dissolving. Baekhyun returns to his throat. He doesn’t want to explain himself, he doesn’t want to waste any more time by staring at the lovely column of flesh and bone. But his eyes don’t stray. And his tongue starts moving.

“I’ve been thinking about popping your blood vessels since we met, so... _that_.” He grips Changkyun’s shoulder, kneading the plump flesh there. Changkyun shivers, and Baekhyun is getting _dizzy_ with hunger. He brushes his lips against his skin, almost innocently, and Changkyun shivers _again_. “For the record, I think you’re a little mysterious, too.”

He hears Changkyun’s skin bunch around an arched brow —which Baekhyun is _sure_ looks very cool, very cocky— but he interrupts it with the sound of needlepoint teeth parting soft skin. For a second, Baekhyun’s nose wrinkles at the chemical taste of his lotion, but then blood fills his mouth. _Blood_. Rich with someone else’s iron, acidic with Changkyun’s ongoing death, and tinged with a certain heaviness that Baekhyun’s never tasted before. Viscous and lukewarm and _just right._

Changkyun makes a desperate sort of noise— a _moan_. His hands clutch at Baekhyun’s waist. Baekhyun drinks him in, nose filled with that woodsy scent and mouth filled with that heavy fledgling taste. He thinks he could be satisfied if he never stuffed himself with anyone else ever again. He thinks he would be happy to drown himself in nothing but Changkyun. His body inflates with the sense that he was _right_. He wanted Changkyun for a reason, and he knew he wouldn’t be disappointed.

Changkyun’s little mouth pours out whiny, trapped sounds so different from his relaxed timber. He gets softer and clingier with every wet suck. His polite hands slither under Baekhyun’s shirt, tracing over taut, veiny skin and pawing at cold, starving flesh. _Very_ impolitely. Distantly, Baekhyun wonders how much trouble he’d be in with Chanyeol and the coven if he just sucked the poor, young thing dry.

With a heavy heart, he parts from Changkyun’s throat and pouts at the delightfully horrific wound. He could’ve been more careful with his teeth, but Changkyun doesn’t seem to mind. He’s still clinging to Baekhyun. He’s still gulping down useless air.

“More?” he whispers, and Baekhyun’s brain shatters into a million glittering pieces. Such a brave request, but he makes it sound so _pathetic_.

“Sorry, darling.” Baekhyun sighs mournfully —genuinely feeling every last bit of that mourning— and traces circles over the quickly healing gash with his thumb. Soft skin knitting itself back together beneath smeared and twice- stolen blood. “Can’t have you running out on me.”

There’s something about the way Changkyun sinks into the sofa, the way his thighs part and his lips frown. Something that makes him so vulnerable. With that sheen of confidence taken over by thirst, he’s too honest for his own good. It makes an old predator like Baekhyun want to crush him underfoot.

“How did I taste?” He smirks. Baekhyun marvels at how quickly Changkyun caught onto his thoughts. Who the fuck is powerful enough to have given him psychic abilities so soon after his birth?

“Good,” Baekhyun replies, biting back the complex answers his refined pallet holds just to watch Changkyun’s face wrinkle with disappointment at his curtness. He likes to give simple answers about himself, but doesn’t like to receive the same. 

Baekhyun’s tongue laps at the last bits of blood clinging to his fangs, and there’s that _vulnerability_ again; Changkyun openly gapes at the wet motion. Thirsty in every sense.

He lifts himself from Changkyun’s lap, birdlike form easily flitting from Changkyun’s needy grasp, and his senses fizzle and shine at Changkyun’s further disappointment. He feels like champagne, and when the hell did Baekhyun last taste _champagne?_

“I’m enjoying you way too much, Changkyun.”

“I’d say you’re not enjoying me _enough_ ,” Changkyun grumbles. He stretches his hands in front of him, obviously requesting that Baekhyun help him up, but Baekhyun simply doesn’t help. Changkyun scowls. Small. Indignant.

Baekhyun turns on his heel and saunters over to his kitchen. The fridge is basically empty, of course, but he stocked it with some mini blood cartons and slabs of meat in case the fledgling got peckish.

“It’s not polite to play with your food, you know.” Changkyun _hmphs_ and waddles over to the fridge. He stifles a hiss at the harsh white light of the fridge, new eyes taking a moment to adjust.

“I’m not. First comes feeding—” Baekhyun folds one of the cartons open and deposits it in Changkyun’s waiting hands. “— _then_ comes playing.”

The _slightest_ pink hue gathers in Changkyun’s ears, not nearly enough blood left in him for a full on blush, but it makes Baekhyun’s stomach twitch nonetheless. The fridge light exaggerates the prominence of his nose and glints off of his baby fangs. Baekhyun claps his palms over his mouth, _overwhelmed_ by how delicious he looks.

“I wanna eat you. So bad.”

Changkyun blinks, takes a sip of blood, and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Clearly teetering between shyness and suaveness. Baekhyun presses the heel of his hand against his fangs as Changkyun opts for the latter.

“Why don’t you, then?” He quirks a brow, and Baekhyun was right; the eyebrow raise _does_ make him look very cool, very cocky. He stifles a laugh at the thought that Changkyun practices it in the mirror.

“Shouldn’t I save some of you for the rest of ‘em?” He quirks his own brow and narrows his eyes. Changkyun’s throat bobs. 

“Don’t need to. I’m here for the taking. _All_ of me.”

There’s that impossible psychic power, putting _exactly_ the words Baekhyun wants to hear in Changkyun’s mouth. Baekhyun’s skin alights with electricity. He holds Changkyun in his gaze —a little too playful to be sweet— and slides backwards —a little too magnetic to look like human motion. He knows Changkyun can’t look away. He can see that pre-packaged blood stirring beneath his skin in tangled, violet veins. He smirks.

Baekhyun’s mind flickers back to the way Changkyun shivered under his predatory hold, and then steers his limbs too quickly for the fledgling to process once again. He slams the fridge shut, plunging Changkyun’s eyes in total darkness for the millisecond it takes him to shove Changkyun against the fridge. His pupils slowly dilate to Baekhyun’s slick, certain gaze. 

The carton falls to the floor, splattering the scent of iron all over Baekhyun’s kitchen. Changkyun’s lips part around an apology, but Baekhyun shushes him with a single delicate finger. He keeps his motions fluid, keeps his voice hushed.

“No need to waste time worrying about that. Let’s just worry about what I really want from you, hm?”

“What... What do you want?” Another silly, adorable breath puffs out of his lungs, warm against Baekhyun’s chilled skin. He lets Changkyun dangle in the silence —for no more than a moment, really, he _swears_ — before pressing their noses together.

“I’ll give you a hint: it’s _not_ to have you clean spilt blood from my floors.” He doesn’t give Changkyun the chance to build himself back up to some witty reply; he slides down his form with dancing fingertips and an enticing expression. He reaches his knees, and finds a strange satisfaction in the sensation of his pants soaking up bits of Changkyun’s chilled mess.

“Do you wanna blow me?” Changkyun asks, and he’s looking down at Baekhyun with a sort of reverence, a sort of _wonder_. Baekhyun’s veins feel as dry and needy as they did when Changkyun first shook his hand.

He makes a thoughtful noise and taps his finger against his chin. He swipes a bit of blood from the ground, burying his grimace at the cheap taste to curl his tongue around his red digits. And Changkyun doesn’t look away. Not even once.

“I’m not sure... Do I?” He folds his hands in his lap and grants Changkyun a quick, innocent shrug. The poor thing looks _convinced_ by Baekhyun’s theatrics. Baekhyun takes pride in showing off at mealtime and in having just a _little_ bit of fun with his food, but this is next level. Changkyun is like a goddamn three-ring circus; certainty and nerves and some of the most unique fledgling blood Baekhyun’s ever had, all presented in such spectacularly garish color. All for _him_.

“I hope so,” Changkyun murmurs. So _earnest_. 

“ _Fuck_. Aren’t you the sweetest?” Baekhyun plucks the least dangerous of the urges from his brain —at his age, he doesn’t have the patience to explain himself to Chanyeol more than absolutely necessary— and decides to have mercy on the poor thing. 

He unzips his jeans and pulls the tight waistband down, down his legs, humming happily at the way Changkyun jerks as the fabric drags over his dick. Baekhyun’s being _merciful_ , not gentle. He keeps the jeans around Changkyun’s ankles, and lifts his delighted gaze up, up his legs. Corded muscle shivering at a microscopic level. Overripe veins throbbing just beneath that honey skin. Changkyun’s trying so hard to be calm, and Baekhyun silently marvels at the effort; he’s pretty sure that he’s never worked so hard to still his desires in his entire undead life.

Baekhyun makes eye contact. Winks. Giggles. Changkyun repays his impish actions with a little magic of his own; that pursed mouth blossoms back into the pink, wet hole that Baekhyun likes so much. Psychic.

“You like a little bit of pain?”

Changkyun nods.

“You gonna tell me if you need me to stop?”

Changkyun nods again. Baekhyun’s lips stretch around his full smile. Razor sharp and far too hungry for Changkyun’s own good. If looks could kill...

“I’m trusting you to keep me in check, sweetheart. I’m still feeling a bit peckish.”

“ _Peckish_.” Changkyun’s mocking giggle is cut short by the _yank_ of his stretchy modern undergarments down to his ankles. The dark fabric pools awkwardly over his jeans. His legs tense, tiny neurons sensing Baekhyun’s slippery gaze.

Baekhyun hums, excited and intrigued by the _display_ before him. Changkyun’s dick has slid out from beneath his shirt’s hem, gently curving towards his stomach in a pale red hue. Vulnerable and proud all at once. Baekhyun’s mouth waters, the chemically bitter taste of that lotion gathering beneath his tongue. He scoots forward, and Changkyun jumps a bit. _Jumps_.

“You’re adorable,” Baekhyun sighs. 

He places his hands on either side of Changkyun’s hips, allowing Changkyun a moment to appreciate how fragile his fingers look splayed against his almost living physique, before he mouths at the base of his cock. Open-mouthed and wet, all tongue and lips. He lets a high, wanting noise spill from his throat. Changkyun’s palms squeak against the fridge; he’s still human enough to _sweat_. Baekhyun feels dizzy.

He parts from Changkyun’s dick, dancing his fingers over to hold the base of it. He holds it tenderly, as if he’s afraid it’ll disappear without his touch. So flushed, so angry wrapped in his old bones. Baekhyun would like to draw this image out _forever_ , to stare until he spots every last one of Changkyun’s shivering cells, but his eyes wander up to Changkyun’s face.

“You can touch me, or yourself, you know? You don’t have to keep your hands against the fridge like that,” Baekhyun laughs lightly. Changkyun looks desperate and _terrified_ , especially with his hands flattened against the fridge like he’s afraid to be scolded for stepping out of line. Like his mind can’t decide whether he’s predator or prey. It’s cute.

“I— okay, Baekhyun,” Changkyun _whimpers_. Gawks at Baekhyun. Inhales sharply. His hands don’t move. Baekhyun’s mouth parts. 

“I haven’t even _done_ anything...” he muses. Changkyun sucks in his lower lip and darts his eyes everywhere, anywhere but on Baekhyun’s face. He’s so goddamn _responsive._ “All for me, huh?”

A grin spreads across his face, somewhere between endeared and malicious. And Changkyun’s focus returns to him. So _good_.

“Tell me what you need.” His voice teeters on the tips of his fangs. His chin lifts gently, coaxing Changkyun into a reply. Changkyun’s lips purse as he convinces himself to step forward.

“I need to come,” he replies, as if that much isn’t obvious. Restlessness builds in Baekhyun’s chest. He shuffles closer, presses his cheek to Changkyun’s thigh, and begins to stroke him. _Slowly_.

“You don’t say?” He giggles, and Changkyun’s damp palms find Baekhyun’s scalp. For a moment, Baekhyun thinks he’s regained confidence, that he’s about to tell Baekhyun off for playing with him, but then he hears those eyelashes fluttering and he—

“ _Please_ ,” Changkyun sobs.

Baekhyun lifts his gaze, innocent and open, as if he had no clue that Changkyun was falling to pieces above him. He wonders if he might have Changkyun crying beneath him another time, if he might stoke his confidence into something like arrogance the next, if there are secret desires lying within Changkyun just _waiting_ for Baekhyun to tease out. Excitement crackles beneath his skin. 

“Well, if you need it _that_ badly...” Baekhyun shrugs and steadies his hand back at the base of his dick. Baekhyun’s vampire eyes really _are_ super special because he catches it. The faintest glance. The slightest _hint_ of a look in Changkyun’s eyes. But it’s colored with enough dark, heavy _wanting_ to feed off of for hours. And it’s directed right at Baekhyun’s teeth.

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna hurt you,” he says, using the same, sugary tone he uses with particularly unruly prey. Changkyun’s residual human prey instincts must sense danger, but he’s a vampire now, after all; he tugs at Baekhyun’s hair, tugs him _closer_.

Baekhyun presses a kiss to the tip of it with an exaggerated _mwah_ , savors Changkyun’s surprised blinking, and then slithers his tongue along the slit. Over the heated length. Between his fingers and the caught base. Changkyun’s knees bend. 

Fireworks go off in Baekhyun’s head, and the sparks dance across his tongue. He sucks at the skin, laps at it hungrily, plays around a bit with Changkyun’s shivering and tensing— _just_ a bit though. He’s merciful. _Really_. 

Changkyun is honest to god _breathing_ above him, sucking in air as if it’ll save his dying body from Baekhyun’s thirst. It’s hilarious and adorable; Changkyun’s so much like a creature caught in Baekhyun’s palm. Baekhyun doubts that even goody-two-shoes Chanyeol could blame Baekhyun for toying with him.

When he finally takes Changkyun in his mouth, he’s careful to wrap nothing but lip and tongue and throat around the sad, swollen thing. He tastes the cotton of his strange undergarments, the grayish dye in his jeans, the carton of blood coursing through his veins. Baekhyun hums sweetly, almost singing a tune for Changkyun, but stops short as Changkyun’s hands mold around his skull and _press._ Changkyun is still panting, still staring down at him, but Baekhyun spots a flicker of that certainty behind his dark pupils. He’s on the very _cusp_ of a predator’s gaze.

He lets Changkyun press his nose to the pit of his stomach. He folds his hands in his lap and intently watches Changkyun’s expression. One, two shallow thrusts. So weak, so tired. Urgent need twists at his pretty face, so Baekhyun hollows his cheeks to alleviate some of the pressure, but it doesn’t work. His jaw clenches and his teeth lock together. Baekhyun can sense another plea collecting at the back of his throat, and he wonders how long it would take Changkyun to finally give up on his mouthfucking attempts and almost predatory gaze, to beg for Baekhyun’s help.

He doesn’t have the patience to find out. Changkyun wants to come and, luckily for him, Baekhyun wants to see him come. He makes certain that Changkyun understands what he wants by easily peeling his hands from his head, lacing their fingers together, and tracing his thumbs over the veins in his wrists. His mouth slides back, giving Changkyun’s hands a reassuring squeeze as he starts to protest. Changkyun tastes far too good for Baekhyun to set him free now.

He suckles at the tip for a moment, and hones all of his senses in on the way Changkyun’s bottom lip quivers, throat bobs, chest inflates. The humming, dark kitchen dissolves around him. He’s all there, nothing hidden away. Everything out in the open for Baekhyun to take and do whatever he pleases with. Baekhyun only swallows his giddy reaction for the sake of whatever Changkyun is about to present him with next.

His mouth cracks open to show off every last one of his tiny, glittering fangs. The vein running along the underside of Changkyun’s dick comes _deliciously_ close to bursting against his bottom row of teeth. Baekhyun gives Changkyun a knowing smile, tongue wriggling at the back of his dark, wet mouth. He _bites_ — 

_Freezes_. Just before his fangs can pierce Changkyun’s heated, taut length. Hungry needles _whispering_ over flesh. And Changkyun comes with the loudest, throatiest shout— the most desperate sound that Baekhyun’s heard in ages. It reminds him of hunting in moonlit forests, of prowling the grounds of a stony castle. Baekhyun swallows the weak, metallic fluid even though it’ll probably make him queasy later, just to draw out a few more of those _sounds_. They might echo in his kitchen long after Changkyun leaves; hours, maybe even years.

“Did you have fun?” he asks. With one final shudder, Changkyun lets his hands fall to Baekhyun’s shoulders. Baekhyun refrains from licking his lips; the poor thing’s looking spent enough as it is.

“Yeah.” Another exceedingly simple response. Voice gravelly as if he’d been the one sucking dick. “I know _you_ did.”

Baekhyun meets Changkyun’s pout with a quick, cheery shrug. As if he feels the need to apologize, he’s _extra_ gentle as he pulls Changkyun’s clothes back up. He even zips his jeans back up, only roughly tugging him forward by his belt loops once. Changkyun’s eyes don’t stray from the fluid trail of Baekhyun’s motions.

“Don’t you need... to...?” Changkyun gestures to Baekhyun’s crotch, and Baekhyun’s brows shoot up to his forehead.

“What? You can’t say ‘dick’ all of the sudden? Or ‘fuck’ or ‘come’ or—”

“ _No_ ,” Changkyun hisses, embarrassment curling the edges of his lips and revealing bits of blunt, clunky fangs. “I just didn’t want to, like, offend your antiquated sensibilities by mentioning your unmentionables, or something.”

A laugh bursts from Baekhyun’s chest. He pats Changkyun’s cheek.

“My _unmentionables_ haven’t functioned in centuries, darling.”

“Maybe that’s ‘cause you haven’t tried _me_ , yet.” He smirks and lifts his chin, but his dark, young eyes are locked solidly onto Baekhyun’s face. Pleased _and_ eager to please. “We could have so much fun.”

“ _We?_ As in, you and I? Doing this? Again?” Baekhyun gasps and bogles his eyes, mocking Changkyun. Changkyun crosses his arms sourly, but doesn’t hesitate to laugh at his own expense. Baekhyun tugs his necklaces out from under his collar, and gives his plump cheek one last pat. “Maybe, but not now. You’re spent. And I’d never forgive myself if I drank all of you down in one go.”

“Somehow, I doubt that,” Changkyun murmurs, amusement bouncing between them, even as Changkyun is clearly straightening his posture to move apart. “You have my number, so we can be suckbuddies, if you want.”

“Suckbuddies?” Baekhyun parrots. Changkyun takes one step, then another. Wide and purposeful enough to lay claim to the entire apartment.

“Yeah. You know? Like fuckbuddies, but...” Baekhyun watches his fluttering hand motion with rapt attention. It’s meant to be a dismissive thing, brushing off his uncomprehended joke, but all Baekhyun cares about is that soft, still-warm skin and the sharp bones just _waiting_ beneath it. Whatever sort of predator Changkyun is about to become, Baekhyun wants a taste.

“I’m gonna hold you to that, you know. Us, again.” Baekhyun curls his tone back into that silky, hungry one reserved for prey. He swallows thickly at the way Changkyun’s hand _freezes_ over the doorknob. Then, he beams, jumping back into his friendliest, cheeriest voice, “Okay, _suckbuddy?_ ”

“Okay, suckbuddy,” Changkyun laughs, but Baekhyun spots the flecks of fear and lust, confidence and vulnerability swirling in his irises.

It takes every ounce of willpower in his body to just _let_ a good meal walk out the door. For the peace of the coven, the Chanyeol inside of Baekhyun's head says, as if that matters more than what he wants. Look at Baekhyun, exercising restraint and drawing one meal out to savor every last bit of it— he can't wait to see how surprised the real Chanyeol will be.

Changkyun gives a hesitant little wave and a broad smile as the door closes in around him. Baekhyun keep his fangs safely inside his own smile. Until next time he gets a craving, at least. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading this entirely self-indulgent thing !! i wrote it all at like 4am in a feverish I Must Write A Baekhyun state of mind so pls forgive any messiness lol
> 
> feedback of any kind = one paper towel to mop up the bloody mess still on baek's kitchen floor
> 
> u can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/showmeurteef) or [cc](https://curiouscat.me/showmeurteef)


End file.
